


Mortality

by bonesmctightass



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bottom Spock, Broken Bones, Dirty Talk, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, I'm so sorry, M/M, Mentions of blood and violence, Protective Spock, Separation Anxiety, Smut, Southern yelling, Vulcan Biology, but only in chapter 3, i am a monster, manly man crying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-20
Updated: 2016-08-21
Packaged: 2018-08-09 23:41:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7821787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bonesmctightass/pseuds/bonesmctightass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leonard contemplates Spock's mortality.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Blood

It’s strange to think that blood can be a color other than red. Leonard had treated a variety of species in his lifetime, especially since he came aboard the _Enterprise_. So many different shades of the stuff had been spilled on his sickbay floor, and the sight of it never ceased to be utterly _jarring_. Right now it was awash with a deep shade of green. Spock was lying on his table. Stomach open, heart exposed, bones bared to the cold sterile air of the operating room. Leonard’s hands were on auto pilot. There was so much blood. It was staining his hands, his arms, his science blues, spilling down the biobed onto the floor and puddling on his boots. Leonard felt like he was going to drown in it. The Vulcan had already flatlined three times since he was rushed to the safety of the ship. Leonard was barking out orders to his staff as he worked at a furious pace to bring his friend back to life. More blood bags, more hypos, _more time_.  

* * *

The waiting by the transporter pad was arguably the worst part. It was the not knowing what he was up against. A panicked crewman commed sickbay in the midst of an attack. Leonard could barely make out the words.

A landing party composed of science officers, led by Spock, had beamed down to an M class planet tasked with exchanging information with the locals. The species there had equipment and technology which would have benefited the Federation. Likewise, the _Enterprise_ crew had their fair share of discoveries to offer in turn. At first, the visit was going swimmingly. Spock was engaged in a pleasant conversation with the planet’s leader, dutifully explaining their latest interstellar findings with as much enthusiasm as he was capable of. The other science officers were looking on to a demonstration of alien technology with rapt attention. Their business concluded, the landing party was making their way to the drop zone when all hell broke loose.  

No one had anticipated the possibility of a Klingon ambush. The ship’s scanners had shown no hostile vessels in the area, no indication of conflict. It should have been a safe mission. They were defenseless, completely outnumbered, and spectacularly unprepared. Spock had put himself directly in the line of fire, attracting as much attention as he could. The natives had retreated to safety and the crew was able to get back onboard with minimal damage. The Klingons’ preferred weaponry was of the scimitar variety, which did not bode well for an unarmed Spock. His hand-to-hand combat skills were not enough to leave him unscathed.  

When the Vulcan had finally materialized, he immediately collapsed to his knees and fell to the floor. Leonard found himself rooted to the spot, drinking in the horrifying sight of the very strong and agile first officer lying on the pad in a crumpled heap. His uniform was ripped to shreds. A deep gash was carved into his side, exposing delicate sinews of muscle and tissue. It was going to take much more than a dermal regenerator to close that wound. Spock’s chest was covered in a series of stab wounds and his shoulder was cut to the bone. Just looking at the extent of the damage made Leonard’s stomach churn. He quickly sprang into action, hauling Spock onto a stretcher and yelling at him, trying to coax him back to consciousness.

_“Don’t you die on me, Spock. You keep your eyes open, damn it. You hear me? You’re not dying today, not so long as I’m a doctor on this ship. I’ve got you now, you’re gonna be okay. Just stay with me, Spock. Stay with me. Keep your eyes open. Look at me, damn it!”_

Within seconds, all that was left in the transporter room was a smattering of green.

* * *

Leonard wakes with a start, bolting upright with the rush of adrenaline that comes with trying to save a life. The gentle pinging of the life support systems reminds him that he’s fallen asleep in his office. _Typical._ It has been almost a month since the incident. No matter how much time passes, Leonard never gets through the night without images of Spock’s heart in his hands assaulting his subconscious. With a soft grunt, he hauls himself out of his chair and ambles out into his sickbay. He stares hard at the biobed, long since wiped clean. It didn’t matter. Every time he looks at it, all he can see is a pool of green. Leonard leans forward, hands gripping the edge of the bed until his knuckles are white, and lets out a long sigh. His mind is racing, pouring over every action, every single detail. Was there something he could have done differently? He should have been with the landing party when they beamed down. Why didn’t he insist on going? Leonard is so wrapped up in his own head he fails to hear the door slide open. A strong hand wraps around his shoulder, startling the good doctor so much that he lets out a decidedly unmanly shriek of surprise. He whips around and comes face to face with Spock.

“Sweet jumpin’ jellybeans, Spock. Didn’t your mama ever teach you to knock?” Leonard spats angrily. Spock’s eyes glint with something akin to amusement.

“My apologies, doctor. I will endeavor to announce my presence in the future.”

“Well, what are you waiting for? Get up there,” Leonard orders and gestures to the bed. Spock complies, easing up onto the surface with grace and elegance that only he could display. Wordlessly Spock begins to remove his uniform tunic followed by the tight black undershirt, as he has done countless times since sustaining his injuries. Leonard had demanded routine checkups twice a day, before and after every shift to ensure he was properly healing. Spock sits atop the bed ramrod straight, looking pointedly at Leonard as if to implore him to get on with it. Calloused fingers gently smooth along the deeply scarred tissue along Spock’s side, scrutinizing every millimeter of skin. Not even Vulcan disciplines and a dermal regenerator could completely diminish the scarring. Spock flinches indiscernibly. If Leonard hadn’t been on him like white on rice, he wouldn’t have even noticed. He mentally curses himself. Of course the area would still be tender and no doubt painful to the touch, however gentle.

“I believe it has healed considerably over the past two weeks. I am in good hands,” Spock offers helpfully, easing the knot in Leonard’s chest.

“Probably my best work,” he jokes flatly, moving on to examine the damage to Spock’s chest and shoulder.

The exam lasts longer than is strictly necessary, but Leonard just can’t help himself. He needs to be sure. He gave the Vulcan a once over with a tricorder and checked his vitals a couple of times, just to be sure everything was running smoothly. Finally he permits his patient to redress, feeling somewhat relieved to see that Spock has regained full movement in his shoulder and the scarring on his chest is now barely noticeable. Leonard allows himself a few seconds to stare at his own hands. The same hands that held Spock’s goddamn _heart_. The same hands that knitted the fraying edges of his wounded skin back together. The same hands that felt his organs stop working.

“Leonard.” He hears Spock say after a prolonged period of silence. The way he says his name is like a prayer, like a breath of fresh air, like he’s breathing life right into Leonard’s lungs. Spock’s long elegant fingers curl around his shoulder again, like it belongs there. Now more than ever, he is acutely aware that Spock’s touch sends a jolt of electricity down his spine and his words make his heart swell.

“You needn’t worry so excessively, Leonard. I am alive. You were responsible for saving my life. Please take solace in that.” Spock’s tone is as even as it always is, but when Leonard looks up at his eyes he sees concern there. And something else he can’t quite identify. Leonard suddenly shrinks back as though Spock’s touch burns him. _Don’t look at me like that_ , he thinks to himself. _Stop looking at me like you care._

“We’re done here, you can go,” he says dismissively as he turns to lumber back to his office, waits for the sound of boots against the tile. Every muscle is pulled taught with anxiety, ready to snap.

“Make sure you come and see me again after your shift.” Leonard says anyway, even though he knows it is completely unnecessary. Spock lingers for a moment. He probably knows it too.  

“Very well,” he says before finally taking his leave. Leonard deflates and slumps back into his chair. He scrubs his hands over his face, distinctly aware of the way his heart flutters like a giddy schoolgirl when Spock is around him and breathing and _alive_. It doesn’t take him long to pour himself a drink to chase the feelings away. _Don’t do this to yourself, Leonard_. A few seconds more and he’s drained his glass of brandy, starting on another. Despite his better judgement, his mind wanders to the day after.

Spock was borderline stable. Leonard had alternated between cementing himself to Spock’s bedside and pushing him off on Chapel. One week. Seven whole days he was in a coma. The waiting is always the hardest part. Leonard was too terrified to chance at optimism. He couldn’t bear to insist to himself that Spock would come out of it. He labored over what the outcome would be and decided he’d rather not hope for the best when the Vulcan could very well not wake up. Leonard felt the loss deeply. He’d spent the week _mourning_. Now every time Spock arrived for an appointment it was like he couldn’t believe it was real, like he was looking at a ghost. 

This job was the definition of perilous. They could all die tomorrow. Get attacked by a swarm of aliens, struck by meteors and plunged into the vacuum of space, swallowed by some kind of horrible otherworldly gigantic space monster.

Leonard couldn’t allow himself to have feelings for the first officer. Not after he’d seen him die multiple times. Not after he’d swam in a river of his blood. Not after he felt Spock’s body go slack in his arms. He just  _couldn’t bear it._


	2. Tears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bones slides further into his funk. Spock resolves to pull him out of it.

Over the course of the month Spock had been deemed fit for service, much to his doctor's chagrin, and embarked on a steady stream of away missions as Starfleet dictated. Leonard had fallen into a rhythm of working himself damn near to cardiac arrest each time Spock had left the ship and surreptitiously relaxing each time he returned unharmed. Every night Leonard continued to be haunted by images of the Vulcan bled out on his table and grew more and more restless. He started drinking more than sleeping. Jim, bless his heart, indulged him in his nightly brandy consumptions and resolved to let Leonard hole up in sickbay until he could get his shit together. The torture was _endless._ Leonard was praying for a moment of relief. Just a few minutes of uninterrupted sleep. Just a few minutes free of Spock invading his thoughts. Leonard stared hard at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. The dark circles beneath his eyes were very prominent now.  _Maybe exhaustion will be the thing that kills me_ , he thought with warped amusement.     

* * *

 

Things transpired much the same way in the next week. Leonard had administered his exams and Spock had mutely acquiesced. For the first three days the two talked strictly shop, and when Leonard wasn’t getting a read on his health he was avoiding Spock like the plague. 

The fourth day undoes all of what Leonard calls _progress_ and what a sane person would deem a spectacular downward spiral into madness and self-loathing. Apparently he has once again fallen asleep at his desk, and can’t rightly decide if the pounding headache or the firm hand on his shoulder has roused him to consciousness. Leonard lifts his head and readies himself to glare harshly at who he assumes is Chapel about to give him a verbal ass whooping. He falters when he is instead met with Spock, who is standing in front of the desk, all perfect posture and well-groomed with hands clasped behind his back looking like nothing ever happened. But Leonard knows. He will never forget.

“Perhaps I am not the one who is in need of daily examinations,” Spock intones, staring pointedly at the empty bottles of god knows what strewn about the desk with an unreadable expression. Leonard’s anger and insecurity flares at that and he forces himself into a standing position, knowing he’s leaning just a little too heavily on the desk for support to really make him look any amount of intimidating. He adds his best scowl anyway, for good measure.

“When you’re ready to stop acting like a reckless idiot then maybe I’ll be more inclined to let you off the hook,” he snaps roughly. Spock, to his credit, chooses not to respond.

Once again, Spock is soon situated atop the biobed and waiting expectantly for Leonard to start probing at him. Taking a seat on the rolling stool, the doctor begins his work.

“How’re you feeling these days?” Leonard asks conversationally, trying to maintain some semblance of normalcy on his part. He tries to ignore the way Spock’s eyes are boring into him. He tries to ignore that he hasn’t shaved in several days, hasn’t showered in four, has brandy on his breath, and can’t remember the last time he slept for more than an hour. He’s not okay and they both know it, but he’s pretty damn determined not to talk about it.

“I am once again functioning within my normal parameters of efficiency,” he hears Spock say as he stares hard at the mottled skin above his heart. He checks for murmurs, scar tissue, any signs of strain on the organ at all. Even though he can see with his own eyes that Spock has recovered, he can’t seem to let himself fall into a feeling of relief. Leonard finds himself pressing a hand to Spock’s side, just to feel the life thrumming through him.

“Doctor.” Hearing the sound of his title makes him quickly withdraw his hand and return it to his PADD, where he sets about updating the information in Spock’s file.

“ _Leonard._ ” This time he looks up and meets Spock’s dark eyes, which are definitely showing concern. Somehow that just makes Leonard even angrier. He looks away again and grips the stylus tightly, refusing to chance another glance upward. There is so much he wants to say. _How dare you look at me like that? You died in my arms and you’re looking at me like I’m the one with the problem. How are you even here?_

“You are not well.” Leonard snorts at the irony of it all. _You die and I’m the one who’s not fine._ He starts to laugh, his voice coming out strained and disjointed. This has got to be some kind of cosmic joke. Jim is right. He does need to get his shit together.

“I’m just fine, hobgoblin,” he says a little harsher than he means to, beats down the feelings of guilt knowing full well Spock is incapable of being offended by it. As if he’s fooling anyone with his bristling attitude. Leonard stands and adjusts his tunic absently, not wanting to meet the intensity of Spock’s gaze. The Vulcan seems entirely unimpressed by Leonard’s obvious methods of avoidance.

“What? You got somethin’ to say?” Leonard snarls, forcing himself to look Spock in the face as though daring him to challenge his fraying sanity. For an indeterminable amount of time the two men simply stare at each other. The tension in the room mounts to an uncomfortable degree as electricity crackles in the air between them. Finally Spock reaches out, hesitantly at first, steels himself for the inevitable onslaught of emotion and grabs Leonard’s wrist in a tight and unrelenting grip.    

The second he feels skin on skin contact Leonard knows exactly what Spock is doing. He propels himself backwards, knocking the stool and PADD onto the floor in a feeble attempt to escape Spock’s probing touch. Of course he isn’t able to get far. Vulcan strength is unmatched and he doesn’t budge a millimeter, just holds on tighter.

“Let go of me you pointy eared bastard!” Leonard seethes, continues his ineffectual attempts at freedom. “Don’t make me deck you!” He shouts, as if he is any real threat to Spock.

Apparently Spock has gotten everything he needed through the persistent touch because he lets go a few tense seconds later. Leonard backs up until he feels his spine collide with a counter covered in medical supplies. He promptly turns around and hunches over it, gripping the edge until he can’t even feel his fingers anymore.

“You bastard. You had no right,” he mumbles quietly, hating the way his voice cracks as the words leave his mouth. He hears Spock slide off the biobed and pad over to where he’s standing. Obstinate hands are firmly grasping his shoulders, forcing Leonard to turn around and face his problem head on. The look on Spock’s face is his ultimate undoing. What he sees there breaks him, destroys the dam holding back everything he’s been feeling for the past month.

Spock is staring down at him, actually has the gall to look guilty. The words are coming out his mouth before Leonard can stop them.

“Are you happy now? Fuck you, Spock.” Leonard shoves hard at his chest, trying to dislodge the steady pressure of those goddamn hands. Of course that gets him nowhere.

“You _died_ , you son of a bitch. In _my_ arms. I _felt_ you stop breathing. You wormed your way into my life, made me actually give a shit about you. And then you go and leave me on my own, in this fucking tin can floating around in space.” He tries again to pull out of Spock’s grip to no avail.

“And you know what? I was just about to make peace with that. I was. Any one of us could die at a moment’s notice, I get that. You have any idea how many good people I’ve lost in this room? Nobody lives forever, I get that. Not even you, even with your Vulcan superpowers. I was about to be fucking  _fine_ with that. And then you come down here and have the nerve to look at me like that, like nothing happened and life is fucking peachy.” He feels his face heat up, knows tears are streaming hot and heavy over his cheeks and he wants to crawl up into himself and _die_. With each passing second he’s breaking just a little bit more. Spock continues to stand silent and take it.

“You know what? You’re right. You are so right, Spock. I’m not fine. Nothing is fine.“ Leonard stops his futile attempt to get away and focuses instead on drying his eyes.

“I can’t do this. I can’t. Everyone I care about gets taken away from me. My parents, my wife, my fucking _kid_. And you were no different. Just when I was getting used to your pointy mug, you up and leave me.” Leonard feels the grip on his shoulders tighten just a fraction. He feels himself spiral ever downward. He hates himself for acting like a child; being so helpless and  _weak_. Blaming Spock for what he has become is supposed to make him feel better, but it doesn’t.  

“Just for a moment,” Spock says gently.  Leonard suddenly feels all of the fight leave his body. He sags against Spock’s still bare chest, wraps his arms tight around his waist and buries his face in the crook of his neck. The insistent press of flesh grounds him, reminds him that Spock is not a ghost. Spock is here, really here. _Smells like some kind of tea spice_ , Leonard thinks idly. 

“You must know that I had complete trust in your ability as a physician. I knew you would not let me die, Leonard.” He feels the words as much as he hears them, feels the vibration of Spock’s deep voice against his cheek. Spock says his name so easily, like he’s been saying it his whole life. Wouldn’t that be nice. The admonition makes Leonard sob so hard his whole body shakes with the intensity of it and he can’t hold on tight enough. The realization that he needed this finally dawns on him. Leonard has to trust that Spock will always come back, even from death. He has to trust himself. 

That pain in the ass Vulcan will not die. Not until he is old and gray and damn well ready to leave this universe. Leonard resolves to make sure of that. He knows his nails are biting into the skin of Spock’s back but he can’t bring himself to let go, wonders if he’ll ever let go again. Spock winds his arms around Leonard’s shoulders, squeezes him tight and reassuring flush against his chest. For what feels like hours Leonard just cries his heart out against Spock’s neck..

Eventually the tears stop flowing and the sickbay is filled with the quiet sounds of Leonard’s sniffling. Spock had alternated between rubbing his back and stroking his fingers through Leonard’s mussed hair in an attempt to comfort the man he’d unknowingly wounded so deeply, almost irreparably.  

A gentle tug on his hair has Leonard pulling back again, though he stubbornly refuses to let go. Spock slides his hands up Leonard’s arms to settle on either side of his face.

“I will endeavor to be more careful next time,” he promises. Leonard knows that’s Spock’s way of saying he’s not going anywhere and somehow he believes it. He starts to laugh like he means it, loud and unrestrained. This is real. Spock is real. He wonders how he could have let himself be so stupid. As if he would really let Spock go, in any sense of the word.

“Yeah. Well. See that you do. Otherwise I’ll bring you back and kill you myself.” Spock’s lips quirk upward into a smile that somehow reaches his eyes without splitting his face in the process and for a moment Leonard forgets how to breathe. Without thinking he leans forward and claims Spock’s lips in a tender kiss. At first the touch is fleeting, a gentle brushing of skin to convey everything he feels, everything he can’t say. Spock is leaning forward, pushing for more contact. Leonard goes in for another, and another. The next kiss is more desperate, like they’re memorizing the feel of the other’s lips. Leonard wonders briefly if this is what heaven feels like. If it is, maybe death wouldn’t be so bad.  

Spock is the first to open his mouth, lick along the seam of Leonard’s lips in a silent plea for entry. Leonard’s jaw goes slack and he savors the flavor on Spock’s tongue as it invades his mouth and commits it to memory. Within seconds they’re pushing up against each other, trying desperately to get as much contact as they can before they run out of air. Spock has crowded him up against the counter. Leonard feels it digging unforgivably into his back but he can’t stop, can’t pull away. The burn in his lungs soon grows too persistent to ignore and he has no choice but to break the kiss.

“Didn’t know you cared about me like that,” Leonard hears himself say, knows it’s a lie. Knows Spock knows it’s a lie, too. He was just too emotionally stunted to do anything about it. They both were. He needs to hear Spock say that it’s true, needs to hear the emotion as much as he needs to feel it.

“I had thought that much was evident.” He feels Spock breathe the affirmation against his swollen lips. _Close enough_ , Leonard thinks.

* * *

That night, Leonard definitely did not beg Spock to stay with him in his quarters. Because he definitely _does not_ beg. Not that he needed to. They lay together, side by side bathed in the gentle white glow of the stars outside of Leonard’s window. He can’t remember the last time he’s felt this relaxed. They hadn’t said a word to each other since leaving the sickbay, didn’t need to. Leonard had set his hand on Spock’s side as soon as they hit the mattress, splayed his fingers over his heart and counted the even beats.  

For once, Leonard doesn’t need a lick of alcohol to help him get to sleep.  


	3. Sweat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leonard takes advantage of the early morning hours.

The pleasant smell of earthy incense rouses Leonard from his pleasant sleep. He stretches out an arm, not surprised to find that the other end of the bed is empty. Sitting up, bleary eyes settle on Spock’s form on the floor near the bed. The Vulcan is perched on his meditation mat, hands folded neatly in his lap. Leonard feels a smile tug at his lips as he quietly slips from the sheets and settles on the opposite end of the mat. He hunches over in an attempt to get a closer look at his lover. Spock’s face is the picture of serenity. Leonard feels his heart swell in his chest. He feels so much love for the man in front of him, he’s not sure his heart can even contain it.

* * *

 

“You don’t just do that to a guy!” Leonard shouted at the oblivious Vulcan.

The night after his emotional breakdown he had woken up alone. Spock had fled the scene after waking that morning and hadn’t even roused him to say goodbye before reporting to the bridge. _Can’t say I blame him after all that shit I put him through last night,_ Leonard had thought bitterly. Determined to keep a grip on his last shred of dignity, Leonard had managed to avoid the bridge through alpha and beta shifts. At the end of the day he just couldn’t take it anymore. He had stomped over to Spock’s quarters, scaring the life out of a passing ensign who made the mistake of greeting him in the hallway. If looks could kill, that kid would be dead. As soon as Spock had allowed him entry, Leonard started in on him.

“To what are you referring?” Spock asked, entirely perplexed by the doctor’s behavior. Leonard visibly bristled and grew even angrier, which caused Spock’s brows to furrow in concern.

“Spock, are you fucking serious right now?” Leonard pushed passed the man in the doorway and waited for it to slide shut before continuing. “I bared my soul to you last night. I _literally_ cried on your shoulder. You thought after that I wouldn’t be pissed off about waking up alone this morning?”

For a long moment Spock simply stared uncomprehendingly. Leonard groaned and carded his fingers through his mussed hair, averting his gaze from his infuriating partner.

“Look, we’ve already established that I have abandonment issues. If you’re serious about this… whatever we are… then goddamn it you need to be there when I wake up. Or at least wake me up before you leave.” Leonard’s voice had not come out nearly as harsh as he’d intended it to be. Spock had a tendency to make his head soft. He clenched his fists at his sides and turned away, face flushing in embarrassment at his own vulnerability. He had some serious problems.

Spock reached out and gripped Leonard’s shoulder reassuringly. “I am sorry, Leonard. I had not though that my absence would have such a negative effect on you. I will strive to be there with you before beginning my shift.”

From that night forward, Spock had insisted on performing his morning meditation in Leonard’s quarters.

* * *

 

Feeling Leonard’s gaze upon him, Spock opened his eyes. Illogically, he found he had missed the way Leonard spluttered when being caught staring. That was a thing of the past.

“Good morning, Leonard,” he greets smoothly.

“Mornin’ darlin’.” Leonard leans forward on his arms and presses a kiss to Spock’s mouth. “I ever tell you how good you look in those robes?” He asks, the mischievous glint in his eyes complimenting the seductive smirk on his lips.

“Approximately 87 times,” Spock answers teasingly as he leans into the hand skirting around the fold of the fabric at his chest. Leonard takes the liberty of pushing aside the materials on the mat between them and inches ever closer to his Vulcan. “But, as you say, who’s counting?”

Leonard chuckles at that, reaches forward to set his hands on slim hips and rub circles into the silk covered skin there. He can’t resist the urge to tug and his grin widens as Spock eases effortlessly into his lap. “How long till bridge duty?” Leonard breathes the question into pale skin, pleased at the way it makes Spock shiver. His lips follow suit, sucking at the hollow of Spock’s neck.

“2.4 hours, which I believe gives us enough time to engage in certain… activities… before preparing for the day.” Leonard’s teeth catch at the base of a pointed ear which never ceases to make Spock’s breath hitch, even as he speaks. He sinks his teeth into the patch of skin just below that tantalizing ear, sucks hard enough to leave a greenish bruise in his wake.

Leonard leans back slightly, licks his lips as he admires his handiwork. Nothing a dermal can’t fix. But for now, Leonard is fully intent on ravishing his Vulcan and marking up every bit of skin he can get his mouth on. Spock looks less than pleased about the new adornment, but chooses not to fuss.

“Lose the robe, sweetheart. Let me look at you.” Leonard coos, tugging gently at the fabric. Spock leans back slightly and slips the cloth down his arms, leaving it to pool about his waist. “That’s it. God, you’re so beautiful.” He doesn’t miss the way the tips of Spock’s ears tinge green, revels in the reactions only he can arouse.

Leonard skims the pads of his fingers over Spock’s muscled chest, takes his time going over every inch of skin he’s long since memorized. The touch isn’t light enough to tickle but not firm enough to satisfy. Spock sighs at the teasing, leans into the wandering digits in the hopes of getting more. He is not disappointed.

Lips and tongue follow the path Leonard’s fingers took, tracing random patterns over silken skin. “You taste so good,” he purrs lowly. When he reaches a nipple he sucks it into his mouth and teases the other with his fingers, not wanting it to feel left out. Spock sucks in a breath above him and Leonard knows he’s biting his lip to keep the delicious noises from escaping. Leonard retaliates by squeezing the nipple between his fingers and nipping the one in his mouth. “Come on, let me hear your pretty voice. Make some noise for me.”

As if to coax him into relenting, Leonard drops his hands to Spock’s lap and pulls the robe free of his body. The sight of a flushed cock heavy with arousal greets him. Leonard languidly licks his lips, takes a moment to marvel at the lovely greenish tint. He carefully wraps his fingers around the shaft and offers a few teasing strokes. He hears Spock growl and watches the agitated Vulcan try to fuck into his hand. The action only frustrates him further, as Leonard refuses to tighten his grip.

If Leonard wasn’t achingly hard before, he sure as hell is now.

“Ah ah. I plan on taking my time with you this morning. I am going to make you come completely undone.” Leonard rocks forward, dislodging Spock from his lap and toppling him onto the floor. “I’m going to make you scream my name, make you feel so good you beg me not to stop.” He leans over, mouth centimeters from Spock’s ear. He punctuates each sentence with a rough roll of his hips, loving the way Spock gasps at the delicious contact.

“And then I’m going to fuck the logic right out of that Vulcan brain of yours.” Spock shudders hard at the declaration. He grasps the back of Leonard’s neck and pulls him down into a searing kiss. They fight for dominance, each one determined to win. The kiss becomes a clashing of teeth and tongues.  

In a split second Leonard suddenly finds himself on his back.

“Need I remind you,” Spock growls against Leonard’s lips. “That we are on a time limit.” He lowers a hand to Leonard’s briefs and yanks them off his hips. Spock eyes his prize hungrily, licking his lips as he does so. In the back of his mind he is cursing himself for allowing Leonard to crumble his resolve so easily.

“And you say _I’m_ the one with the short fuse.” Leonard teases, smirking at his enthusiastic Vulcan. Spock makes his way down his lover’s body, licking and nipping the skin on his way. Leonard arches into the touch, craving a sharp press of teeth into his delicate skin. “Oh, that’s good. Love it when you get eager for me.”  His head falls back onto the floor as Spock nears his swollen cock. Leonard lets out a low moan when he feels Spock lick a hot, wet stripe from root to tip. As much as he would love to shoot his load right down Spock’s willing throat, this is not what Leonard had in mind. He lowers a hand to Spock’s head and tugs hard, forcing him to rear up on his knees.   

“Thank you, darlin’. I love the attention, but I would much rather ravish you.” Leonard wrestles Spock onto his back once again. “Now you keep sittin’ pretty and let me.” He lifts Spock’s legs to rest on his shoulders and lowers his head, teasing the sensitive skin of Spock’s erection with his lingering breath. It twitches for him, begging for attention. Leonard relents, wrapping his lips around the head. Spock’s hand shoots down into Leonard’s hair. Fingers tighten to a painful degree as a shuddering breath falls from parted lips.

Leonard hums his approval, easing his mouth over the pulsing shaft. His hands busy themselves by stroking the backs of Spock’s thighs affectionately, making him quiver. It takes every ounce of control Spock has to restrain himself from bucking up into that pleasant heat. It felt _so good_. He can’t stop the gasps and whines pouring out of him with each swipe of Leonard’s tongue. The pleasure is overwhelming but he can’t get enough. Spock revels in every touch, every suck, every touch of teeth against his cock.  

While Spock is sufficiently distracted, Leonard strokes a finger along the cleft of his ass and feels around for the opening hidden there. He urges the digit inside, pleased to find no resistance. The walls are slick with Spock’s natural lubricant and the heat around him is unlike anything he’s ever felt before. His body sucks Leonard in, tries to get more. Leonard chuckles against his mouthful, sends vibrations up and down Spock’s cock. The Vulcan arches elegantly, aching for more.  

“Please. Leonard, _please._ ” Long fingers fall from Leonard’s sweat slicked hair and scrabble uselessly for purchase at the carpeted floor. A second digit worms its way into his ass to join the first. Leonard takes his time scissoring Spock open, readying him for his sizeable cock.

“Tell me what you want.” Leonard crooks his fingers, rubs the pads against the bundle of nerves that has Spock seeing stars. He lets out an honest to god moan and bites his lip to stifle it. Leonard knows just how to undo him.

Spock responds by wrapping his legs around Leonard’s hips and jerking him forward. Their erections slide against each other making both men groan appreciatively. “That is quite enough, Leonard. I am more than ready. Give it to me.”

Well if that wasn’t the hottest thing he’d ever heard. “You want my cock? I’ll give it to you.” Leonard removes his fingers and silently thanks Vulcan evolution for making synthetic lubricant superfluous. “I’ll give it to you so good won’t be able to sit down all day.” Leonard grips Spock’s hips, lines himself up and sinks right into that welcoming heat.

Spock writhes in pleasure, lets out a choked gasp as inch after inch works its way into his body until Leonard can’t possibly push any farther. Spock clenches his teeth, reaches up to dig blunt fingernails into his lover’s shoulder as pleasure overcomes him.

“Fuck. You’re so _tight_. Feels so good, I could fuck you all day.” Leonard drops his head to pepper kisses over Spock’s neck. “You’re so good, darlin’. So good,” he praises, sucking more bruises into the sweat slicked chest beneath him. “I should take you to the bridge, bend you over the science console and fuck you good and hard while everyone watches.” Spock makes a noise akin to a whimper and pushes back onto Leonard’s cock.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Let everyone know you’re mine. Bet you’d moan so pretty.” Leonard begins to move, setting a brutal pace that sends Spock scooting across the carpet. The question goes unanswered. Spock has lost the wherewithal to string a coherent sentence together, completely wrecked. His face is blissed out, hair a mess from fingers running through it, kiss swollen lips panting hard and fast. Utter perfection. It is the most beautiful sight Leonard has ever laid eyes on.

“That’s it, you take my cock so good. You were made for it. You feel so good.” The heat pooling at the base of his spine tells Leonard he won’t last much longer, and he has a feeling Spock isn’t far behind. A slight angling of his hips has Leonard’s cock ramming into Spock’s prostate on every thrust. The Vulcan is shamelessly moaning his approval, slowly coming undone from the unrelenting onslaught of pleasure.

Leonard feels Spock’s orgasm hit before he sees it. The muscles around him squeeze tight as Spock comes hard, painting his stomach with his seed. Seeing the debauched man reach his limit is all it takes for Leonard to come to his own end. He shudders hard, empties everything he has into the willing body under him. Spock’s body continues to suck him in, milks him for everything he’s worth. After riding out the waves of his pleasure, Leonard removes himself from Spock and settles on his slick chest to catch his breath.

A comfortable moment of silence passes between them. Leonard moves a hand to Spock’s side to feel the erratic heartbeat pounding under the skin and sighs contentedly.

“How much longer now?” He asks, hating the idea of having to get up and haul himself down to sickbay. Perhaps he could go with Spock to the bridge for a while.

“Approximately forty three minutes.” It takes Spock longer to answer than he’d like to admit. A small smile plays at his lips as he hears Leonard’s agonized groan. “Perhaps we could spare another few minutes like this.” The nod against his chest tells Spock that the man atop him readily agrees. He reaches up and tugs the blanket from atop the bed to cover them with.

Spock lasts for about two minutes in this position before beginning to squirm uncomfortably. Leonard can’t help but laugh and gets to his feet. He pads to the bathroom and returns with a washcloth, making quick work of cleaning them up. In no time the two are groomed, dressed, and prepared for the day ahead.

“Hey. Hobgoblin.” Spock turns to look at him, entirely unamused by the nickname. “Be safe out there. Come home to me in one piece, alright?” Leonard lifts two fingers the way the Vulcan had taught him. Spock lifts his hand and presses the pads of his fingers to those offered to him.

“You have my word.”


End file.
